An appeaser is one who feeds a crocodile — hoping it will eat him last.

Henry has a stick. There's a bit of green about. I kept an eye out for crocodiles, but they are never easy to spot in the long grass.

If we spot one, I have a plan. It involves the stick, but I don't want to show my hand too early.

Comments

Roddy said…

As a crocodile looks like a log when submerged, would the stick be thrown in to confuse said crocodile into thinking that he/she may be related and attempt to strike up a conversation, thus allowing Henry to affect an escape? Only a thought.

24 June 2009 at 20:39

yamini said…

U are right in keeping ur cards closed.

U never knw, may be the croc is reading this blog and it might get hold of ur plans in advance.

Hi Henry!!!!!

24 June 2009 at 20:46

Sue said…

I think the stick may not be needed...Henry looks like he is perfecting his mesmerising stare. Perhaps he will just hypnotise the croc and you can make a clean getaway!
I hope I haven't given anything away...I agree with yamini that the croc may indeed be reading this blog and we should be careful!
And sweet Roddy..I'm sorry but your idea sounds a bit far fetched. Crocodiles hardly ever stop to speak to relatives when lurking in the grass. Everyone knows that!?? Tsk!

24 June 2009 at 22:23

Hallam said…

oh god, you're already training him to wear shorts in winter.

25 June 2009 at 10:54

Kris McCracken said…

Roddy, you're sick.

25 June 2009 at 15:21

Kris McCracken said…

Yamini, he says hello.

25 June 2009 at 15:21

Kris McCracken said…

Sue, it is too cold for crocs today.

25 June 2009 at 15:21

Kris McCracken said…

Hallam, it was his choice.

25 June 2009 at 15:22

Dina said…

I hope Henry didn't hear the news about several Aussie children falling victim to crocodiles. When my Dean (5) came to visit, apparently he had. When we walked in the woods and the jackals started yapping, I said in Hebrew "Shma, tanim!" But tanim (jackals) sounds like tanin (crocodile), and he became very concerned and asked if we have crocs in Israel.

25 June 2009 at 19:10

Kris McCracken said…

Dina, he loves crocodiles, primarily because of the their tendency to eat people, I think.

2 July 2009 at 13:57

Hold me now, oh hold me now, until this hour has gone around. And I'm gone on the rising tide, to face Van Dieman's Land

Theme Thursday again, and this one is rather easy. I am Tasmanian, you see, and aside from being all around general geniuses - as I have amply described previously - we are also very familiar with the concept of WATER. Tasmania is the ONLY island state of an ISLAND continent. That means, we're surrounded by WATER. That should help explain why I take so many photographs of water . Tasmania was for a long time the place where the British (an island race terrified of water) sent their poor people most vile and horrid criminals. The sort of folk who would face the stark choice of a death sentence , or transportation to the other end of the world. Their catalogue of crimes is horrifying : stealing bread assault stealing gentlemen's handkerchiefs drunken assault being poor affray ladies being overly friendly with gentlemen for money hitting people having a drink and a laugh public drunkenness being Irish Fenian terrorist activities being Catholic religious subversion. ...

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke...

This will hurt me...

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